


Shut Up, Sam

by nahtaivel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based off that one song, Bisexual Dean, But tweaked slightly, Goodnight, He probably found Tumblr or something, I'm Sorry Dean, I'm Sorry Sam, M/M, Shut up Sam, Sorry is starting not to look like a word, i'm sorry everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahtaivel/pseuds/nahtaivel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This can’t be real, this can’t be real. He’s hallucinating.<br/>There is art, gifs, and stories of him and Cas, in love, on the World Wide Web.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up, Sam

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLuwR-oNk50
> 
> NOT grammar/spell checked. It's like 10 pm. No way in hell I'm gonna be awake enough.

This can’t be real, this can’t be real. He’s hallucinating.

 

There is art, gifs, and stories of him and Cas, _in love_ , on the World Wide Web.

He’s in a cheap, sleezy motel, reading these… abominations? Crazy fairytales? Beautiful works of art?

Thousands of words long works of fiction, all and only dedicated to him and Cas fucking. Art that must have taken hours of him and Cas doing the do. Gifs of them staring dreamily at each other, exchanging knowing glances, and hugging(in a manly way, he must remind himself) tightly, as if they let go they would cease to exist.

 

 _Platonically_ , he reminds himself.

 

As he’s exploring the artwork, he notices one in particular, one of him and Cas playing Twister.

Dean clicks it, and scrolls down. Over 15000 little note thingies. Jesus H. Christ, he’s about to lose his lunch thinking about… it.

 

The comments are filled with obviously untrue crap.

 

_Look at their eye-sex. This should be rated R._

_“Personal space”, lol_

_Look at these homos._

He’s not gay, he obviously likes girls. His whole life, he’s favored women. Why would he need to even prove that? Shaking his head, he continues scrolling.

 

_not gay, bi_

Dean racked his brain for the word. Bi what? _Uhhh._

 

Bicycles… biss, bisensual...

 

Oh!

 

Bisexua—

 

A noise startles him out of his thoughts, and he scrambles to close the lid of the laptop down. It’s just a noisy moose, swinging open the bathroom door.

“Dean, I’m going out. Heard about a case nearby. You want to come along?” Sam says, adjusting his crooked tie and running a comb through his majestic mane.

“Uh, um, not right now. Go ahead without me, Sammy.” Dean says nervously, not leaving room for much conversation.

 

Sam squints at the nickname, but doesn’t question him further. The hinges of the door screech like nails on a chalkboard as he steps out onto the sidewalk.

 

“Okay, bye.”

“It’s not like that, Sam.” Dean mutters quietly, but Sam catches it nonetheless.

“What?”

“I said, it’s not like that, I don’t like Cas. He’s just a friend. Yeah, okay, he pulled me out of Hell, but he did that for you too. It’s not true. It’s just… platonic.”

“Dean, I didn’t even say any-“

“Shut up, Sam, I don’t love Cas! He always comes for me, but—“

 Sam tries to stifle a sudden snicker and fails.

“—Hey, not like that, you perv! God, what the Hell is your problem, Sam? I thought you were the mature one here. It’s perfectly normal that he spends so much time with me. And yeah I did keep the coat, whatever. It wasn’t weird, I’m sure you would’ve done the same.”

“Well, actually—“ Sam started.

“Come on, dude. The only reason he stands _that_ close is because he just doesn’t get it, y’know, the whole personal space deal.”

“—I bet you’ve—“

“—Never kissed! God, where are you getting all these stupid ideas? What is it now? Eye contact is a federal crime? Cut it out, Sam. It’s not even funny anymore.”

“Dude, you’re like a twelve year old with a crush,” Sam muses. “Seriously…”

“I’m- you’re- you’re a twelve year old with a crush. I mean—there is no crush!”

Sam rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just… Shut up Sam. Just shut up.” His words hang in the air, and the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

 

There’s a long silence, quiet enough to hear a mouse skitter through the walls. Literally.

 

Sam checks his watch. “So, are you finished? I promised to meet the family at 3 PM, and it's 2:55, Dean.”

 

Dean gets out of his chair and flops on the couch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go get some beauty rest. Seeya.” His words come out as a breathy sigh.

 

Sam offers a lop-sided grin. “Bye.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this.


End file.
